And the Devil Spoke the Truth
by criminalxxxmindsxxxfreak
Summary: When Sam jumped into the Cage, he had expected torture and that's exactly what he got. But there are some things that hurt worse than any physical blow ever could. People say that the truth hurts and Lucifer never, ever lied. A brief look into Sam's time in the Cage. Oneshot.


**Title: **And the Devil Spoke the Truth

**Rating: **T

**Warnings:** Mild language; brief torture; blood

**A/N: **I honestly have no idea why I wrote this and I know there are plenty of other fics like this out there, but… I was compelled by my muse to write and she will not be denied. Mostly it's just an excuse for a bit of angst, Sam's time in Hell and some Lucifer 'cos I love him.

Not the first time I've ever written for SPN, I've been writing a lot for the show lately – just in crossovers.

Anyway, hope you enjoy and please review!

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**And the Devil Spoke the Truth**

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Contrary to popular belief, the Devil was _not _a liar. He didn't have to be. He spun the truth with a silver tongue and watched it break people. He never had to lie, hardly ever had to use force. He didn't push people, he didn't threaten people. What he did… was tell the truth. Sure it might come out a bit twisted when it was Lucifer doing the talking, but that didn't make anything he said less valid. He wasn't a liar, he was honest, he was logical. He made sense.

And that was the most frightening thing about Satan. It was the thing that terrified Sam Winchester about the fallen angel more than anything else.

Because Sam had met plenty of angels – more angels than most human beings had ever met or would ever meet. And every one of them had lied in some way or another. Shattering the truth with their violence, their anger, their bitterness. Sadistic bastards. And those were the good guys, the ones on Heaven's side.

But not Lucifer. Of course not. Lucifer was the one who made sense, the one whose words were soft and easy and gentle and _so fucking tempting_. Which, of course, was what the Devil did, right? Tempted people into doing the wrong thing, into abandoning their faith, their family, their humanity.

The night he met Lucifer for the first time had nearly broken the youngest Winchester. Not because Lucifer was altogether a terrifying presence, but because he wasn't. There wasn't anything frightening about the angel and there should have been.

Sam would have been prepared for violent threats, harsh words, torture even, but cool, calm, soft spoken words and sad blue eyes that stared at him with somber pity? Nothing about him sent off warning bells and that was what was terrifying about him. He was unassuming, unthreatening. Collected and even tempered, sympathetic and… damn it, it would have been so _easy _to fall into those words, to give in to the Devil.

Sam hated Lucifer, hated him with a violent, furious zeal. Hated that he made sense, hated that he wouldn't threaten him, hated that he would give him that look of sadness and act like he understood and honestly wished things could be different.

He didn't want the Devil's sympathy; he didn't want his sad eyes, his remorseful smile. In fact, if Sam really had a choice, he'd much rather be tortured. It hurt less than hearing Lucifer telling him the truth. Spinning the webs of truth around him until he was suffocating.

When Sam said yes to Lucifer, when he let him in, when he'd struggled to regain power over his own body and managed to jump into the cage, taking Lucifer, Michael and his forgotten little brother with him, he'd expected torture. He'd expected Hell.

And in truth, he hadn't been disappointed.

Because Lucifer was finally, finally _angry._ And that anger was something fearsome, something terrifying. But still not as scary as when Lucifer _wasn't _angry.

Sam got more than torture in the Cage. The torture was awful, it was spirit breaking and painful and in the Cage the pain never really went away, but that still wasn't the worst part. Because Sam was sure, was absolutely positive, that if it had just been torture, he could've held out longer. He might have lasted a long time before he broke.

But it was so much more than torture. So much worse, so much more than painful.

"Come on, Sammy," Lucifer smiled down at him, looking out at him through Nick's blue eyes. "Where's that smile? I'm starting to miss it."

In the beginning, Sam fought as much as he possibly could. Stubborn to the very end, swearing and screaming and cursing the Devil and telling him just where he could shove his smartass comments.

But it had been over fifty years and Sam was _tired._ Tired of the pain, tired of the torment, tired of Lucifer and his smug smile and his hauntingly sad eyes and tired of the truth. The painful, stinging, worse than having his heart ripped out of his chest truth.

He didn't look at Lucifer; he turned his head to the side and averted his eyes, too weak to protest and in too much pain to respond.

Lucifer sighed and shook his head, that sympathetic smile twisting on his lips, "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy… You're not even gonna try anymore, are you? You know, that's kind of pathetic. Daddy never gave up, did he? Do you think Dean would've just let out a weary sighed and turned his head? Thought you said you were stronger than they were, remember?"

Sam flinched, suddenly assaulted with the memories of those fights. Of every single time he'd turned his back on his family, of every single mistake he'd made, flashing through his mind, reminding him just how much he really deserved this.

Lucifer smiled, "I keep telling you Sammy, you are _me_. You can protest all you want, doesn't change the fact that we are two halves of the same whole. Although… even _I _never went as far as you did."

Sam's head snapped forward again, green eyes laced with tears and glazed over in pain, locking onto Lucifer's with confusion and the tiniest spark of anger. All the anger the broken young man could gather.

Lucifer sighed, "Okay, sure, I disobeyed my father, but _they _turned their backs on _me_. They _threw _me out. You, Sam? You ran away from your family, _you _turned your back on _them_," he laughed, lips twisting upward, "Hell, Sam, you chose to trust a _demon _over your own brother. Even I never did anything that bad… You know, honestly, Sam, you deserve Hell more than I do. You started Armageddon; you unleashed _me_ onto the world. You're directly responsible for the more innocent deaths than… well, anyone other than me."

Sam's voice broke a bit as he turned away again, unable to look into those annoying sad eyes any longer.

"I didn't know,"

"So that excuses you?" Lucifer raised a brow, "C'mon, Sammy, even _I _know you blame yourself. And you should, because you're right. It's all your fault."

"I didn't know," Sam repeated, voice breaking even more, eyes welling with tears as he shook his head. "I thought… If I could do it again I wouldn't…"

"Really, Sam? Sure about that? Because I don't think so and I_ am _you, remember? You can tell yourself you were only doing it to kill Lilith, but you're not fooling anyone. You liked how it felt, didn't you, Sam? You know you did. All that power, made you strong. Stronger than Dean ever was… And you _loved _it."

Sam shook his head, but he knew it was useless. Lucifer was right. He hated himself because he was right and it hurt. He had liked the feeling the demon's blood gave him, higher than any other high out there. Power flowing through his veins and he had _fucking loved it._

Until everything fell apart and, damn if it didn't all shatter so fast.

Lucifer sighed and gave Sam that pitying look that made him want to puke, leaning down and running his fingers through Sam's hair gently, mockingly affectionate. Sam didn't even bother pulling away anymore. It was useless.

"The saddest thing is, Sam, no matter how much of the blood you drank, you and I both know you can never be as strong as Dean. He'll always be the stronger one… You didn't deserve him."

Sam's throat felt tight and he clamped his eyes shut, wishing his hands were free so he could cover his ears. He didn't want to hear this, didn't _need _to hear this. Every word was like a dagger to his heart and he just wanted it to end. He wished he could die.

But he was already in Hell. Nowhere else he could go.

"Really, Sam, you sort of ruined Dean's entire life, didn't you? If you had never been born, Dean would have had a mother and a father and a normal life and no little Sammy to go and screw things up for him. Plus, no Apocalypse, no me, no Hell… All of the bad things in his life would never have happened without you there…"

"Shut up…" Sam wasn't fighting the tears anymore, but he still refused to look Lucifer in the eye, keeping his eyes clenched tight and forcing himself not to listen to the words. To the painful, stabbing, awful truth that hurt more than anything else.

"Please… Just… Just stop talking…"

Again, Lucifer gave him that sad, sympathetic smile and gently touched his cheek, "Okay, Sammy… I'll stop talking."

And he shoved his hand through Sam's chest, breaking ribs and shredding lungs as his fingers wrapped around Sam's heart, blood coating his arm as Sam's guttural screams filled the Cage and Lucifer kept right on smiling.

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**-fin-**

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**A/N: **Ta-da! Really… don't know where this came from, like I said, my muse demanded it.

Let me know what you think please! A bit nervous about Lucifer. Never written him to such… scale.


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